


Too bad hot pants are not in style

by maggells



Series: Three's Company [2]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Cooking, Choking, I'm sorry I know it's been like ten years, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28884789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggells/pseuds/maggells
Summary: Of brownies and blackmail
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson, Lisa Cuddy/Greg House, Lisa Cuddy/Greg House/James Wilson
Series: Three's Company [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118312
Kudos: 19





	Too bad hot pants are not in style

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Three's Company the TV show.
> 
> I know it's been like 10 years. I wrote this forever ago and never finished it. Found it again so here you go!

Cuddy awoke to the distant clanging of pots and pans and the momentary panic of an empty bed. After working her way out of the tangle of sheets, she grabbed a random nightgown out of her bureau and slipped it over her head, detouring to the bathroom before following the dissonant sounds of steel and male voices to the familiar warmth of her kitchen. She stifled a chuckle at the scene before her.

“Shh, you’re gonna wake her up.” Wilson, clad only in plaid boxers and a stage whisper, finished pouring something into a baking pan, placing it into the oven and setting the timer. They had the lights off, working by the glimmer of moon filtering in through the window above the sink, making it difficult for Cuddy to make out what they were doing. She kept herself hidden behind the molding of the doorway, peeking as subtly as possible around the wood to watch them bicker.

“Me? I’m not the one who dropped the damn pan… twice!” House had his jeans on and nothing else. Cuddy faintly remembered stepping over his discarded boxers on the way out of her bedroom. They seemed to glow in the darkness, their silhouettes starkly illuminated against the mundane lines of the counters and appliances. They continued their half-hearted arguing as she stared, smiling as House swiped the mixing bowl from Wilson’s grasp, fingering dark batter off the sides of the bowl and bringing it to his lips. 

Wilson groaned under his breath as House continued to suck the sticky mess off his own fingers, smirking at Wilson’s response. “Jealous?” He gathered up the last of the mixture, tossing the bowl in the sink haphazardly and snorting at Wilson’s cringe at the loud sound of metal-on-metal, limping towards his friend with an outstretched hand. He raised his fingers to Wilson open mouth, quirking an eyebrow when the other man hesitated before taking the offering, wrapping his lips around House’s fingers and slowly licking the remnants of batter off.

House caught Wilson’s jaw as he tried to pull back, fingertips hooked over his bottom row of teeth, thumb pressed firm under his mandible. He guided him backward until his hips hit the counter, effectively trapping him between the granite and House’s dominating frame. Wilson’s knuckles tightened around the counter behind him as House shifted his hand to cup his face, leaning into him until he could feel his breath, warm and masculine, against his lips.

House closed the minute space between them, their mouths lightly brushing. This kiss was far chaster than any they had shared in the hours prior but somehow that made it so much more erotic. It didn’t take long before the need to deepen the kiss took over, Wilson moaning unabashedly into House’s mouth as their tongues met. House pressed him into the counter with fervor, his fingers carding through Wilson’s tousled hair as Wilson’s hands released their death grip on the counter to claw at House’s bare back.

Cuddy suppressed a whimper as she hungrily watched the exchange. She wasn’t sure which side of it she wanted to be on at the moment, feeling oddly left out as she observed their clandestine intimacy. For all the previous openness of the night, she felt like she shouldn’t be witnessing this. It was too private, too fragile to risk ruining with her presence. She started to turn back around and head to the bedroom to leave them to their midnight mischief when her foot hit a creaky floorboard and she froze, knowing she was caught.

“Well, look who decided to join the party.” House’s tone was lecherous and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. She pivoted in place and smiled shyly up at them, a fierce blush spreading across her chest and neck as they stared at her expectantly. “I-- I was just checking you out—I mean I was just checking out the noise, all the uh, banging…” She stammered embarrassedly, her unease giving way to giggles at the double entendres littering her jumbled explanation.

“Someone’s mind’s in the gutter this morning.” House’s voice was husky with desire, his hand still wrapped around Wilson’s neck, just his torso turned toward Cuddy. Wilson simply smiled at her, not attempting to break their embrace. House grinned at her from across the room before returning his full attention to Wilson, throwing a last remark over his shoulder, “You’re welcome to join the party, Cuddles.” Then he was back to devouring Wilson’s mouth.

She watched with rapt attention for several captivating moments from her spot in the dining room before joining them in the quickly warming kitchen. She leaned against the counter next to them, too interested in watching them to interrupt. House’s hand was unabashedly rubbing Wilson through his boxers as Wilson arched up desperately into his touch, cursing hotly against House’s fierce kisses. Both men were breathing heavily and Cuddy found her own respiratory rate speeding up to match theirs. Her thighs clenched together in sympathy of House’s teasing as she sucked her own fingertips into her mouth, her other hand cupping a breast absent mindedly. 

Without warning House broke away from Wilson and grabbed her with a speed belying his handicap. She was thrust roughly back into Wilson, his erection prominent against her lower back, his hands immediately finding her breasts, palming her nipples until they were achingly hard. House resumed his position in front of Wilson, this time with her pressed firmly between them. He easily lifted her slight weight, wrapping her legs high around his hips, grinding her ass breathlessly onto Wilson’s straining cock. They all groaned in unison: House at the feeling of Cuddy’s nails digging into his shoulders, Cuddy at the friction of their denim and cotton covered cocks against her sensitive skin, Wilson at the delicious weight of them both against his lap.

House craned his neck around Cuddy to continue his make-out session with Wilson, his strong hands abandoning her ass to reach behind her and grasp Wilson’s hips, grinding into him through her. She quickly tightened her grip around his waist, locking her ankles to keep from falling. Wilson’s hands left her breasts to card through House’s cropped hair as they kissed; their arms wrapped around each other supported her petite frame without directly holding her up. She was crushed between them, much more than a voyeur but not quite an active participant in their heated exchange, nearly as close to them as they had been just a few hours ago when they were both deep inside her. 

Wilson, concerned for House's leg (and his own back being slammed into the counter edge) was the one to break away and suggest they move. He had been thinking the bedroom or at the very least the couch but it seemed his companions had other ideas. House spun around quickly with Cuddy's thighs still wrapped around his midsection in a death grip and threw her down on the kitchen table. Rucking up the hem of her nightgown as he thrust his prominent erection against her bare skin, House's well-worn jeans were the only thing preventing him from entering her. He growled low and possessive at the feel of her arousal, hot and wet, against the denim. 

Wilson, hesitant to join them and ruin the possibility of watching them fuck each other through the table, stayed leaning against the sink, absent mindedly rubbing himself through his boxers. House began unbuttoning his jeans when Cuddy suddenly called out "wait!" and reached for his hands to stop him. House looked confused until Cuddy leaned up and whispered something in his ear. Then they both turned and stared hungrily at Wilson. Wilson froze in place, dually intrigued and afraid of the predatory looks on their flushed faces. 

"What?" He asked after they continued to stare. In answer House walked over to him and grabbed him roughly by the waistband of his boxers, dragging him over to the table. Before he had a chance to recapture his balance, House threw him between Cuddy's spread legs, Cuddy moaning wantonly at the collision. She rolled her hips against him, making him groan and involuntarily thrust into her. House took advantage of Wilson's distracted state and deftly pulled down his boxers, letting them pool around his ankles. Wilson hissed at the sudden chill across his backside and kicked them the rest of the way off, threading his hands through Cuddy's thick curls and tilting her head back so he could kiss and lick her neck.

Cuddy kept him preoccupied as House limped to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of aloe vera gel off the top then returned to the table, this time pressing up against Wilson instead of Cuddy. Wilson moaned at the feeling of being sandwiched between them, imagining this must be how Cuddy feels when they do this to her. It was amazing; the sensation of being completely surrounded was indescribable. And having House's cock against his ass and Cuddy's cunt against his dick wasn't too bad either. He could get used to this.

House captured his earlobe between his teeth and bit down, eliciting another moan from the already vocal man beneath him. He then let Wilson in on the secret Cuddy had shared with him. "Cuddy wants to watch me fuck you." 

Wilson's response was immediate and filled with lust. "God yes!" he exclaimed as he sank further into Cuddy, pressing his ass harder against House's crotch. House pulled back just enough to release his achingly hard dick from its denim prison, rubbing the head teasingly against Wilson's ass cheeks once it was freed. 

"Jesus House, please!" House, even at his current heightened state of arousal, couldn't let a good joke pass him by and took every opportunity he got to berate Wilson and Cuddy's religion. 

"I thought Jews weren't allowed to say Jesus' name without being smited for blasphemy. Didn't you learn anything in Jew school?" Both of his lovers reached out and smacked him. "Ow! Don't damage the goods." 

Wilson was versed enough in the idiosyncrasies that make up Gregory House to know he would need to be direct to cut off House's desire to mock him. "House fuck me. Now."

That seemed to do the trick because the next thing he heard was House snapping open the top to the aloe bottle then felt the singular sensation of him spreading it against his ass. House wasted no time at all in sliding first one, then two, then three fingers inside him, stretching him as slow as Wilson would allow as he begged him for more. Cuddy writhed beneath them, trying her damndest to just enjoy the sight and sound and feel of them fucking on top of her and not join in. Wilson's dick was trapped between her lower abdomen and his own, the feeling of House's fingers inside of him and Cuddy's silky soft skin beneath him causing him to grind into her, their hip bones clashing.

"House, please! I need you inside me!" Both Cuddy and House groaned at his desperation, House removing his fingers to lubricate himself with more of the cool green gel. Wilson nearly whimpered at the loss of House's fingers, burying his face in Cuddy's cleavage as he waited for House to enter him. House pressed eagerly against Wilson's opening. 

"Ready?" Wilson nodded against Cuddy's flushed skin, bracing himself for penetration. House pushed into him slowly, clenching his jaw at the tight heat that enveloped him.

Wilson pressed back against him immediately, taking him all the way to the hilt. House's fingers dug sharply into Wilson's skin, leaving angry little red crescents along his hip bones. Wilson immersed himself in Cuddy while House caught his breath, licking along her collarbones and pulling her nightgown aside to suck a dark nipple into his mouth, reveling in the way she arched into him and the string of curses he brought to her lips. House unceremoniously pulled Wilson from Cuddy's breast by the scruff of his neck, hauling him up against his chest to whisper hotly in his ear. "I'm fucking you, not her." 

Wilson was paralyzed with desire and a hint of fear at House's unexpected aggression. House slid his hand around to Wilson's throat, applying just enough pressure to restrict Wilson's breathing but not enough to cut it off altogether. He held him still as he traced the shell of his ear with his tongue, his breath teasing and warm as it ghosted across Wilson's flushed face. 

“You cum when I tell you, not before. Understand?” House’s voice brokered no argument. Wilson’s cock hardened, unbelievably, even more at House’s huskily intoned command, precum leaking from the head and onto the flat expanse of Cuddy’s abdomen. He hurriedly nodded his understanding and braced himself against the frame of Cuddy’s thighs as House began thrusting in earnest, his hand still tight around Wilson’s throat.

House, true to form, pulled no punches, slamming into Wilson’s prostate with every stroke, making it downright impossible to remain quiet. Straining against House’s grip on his jugular, his moans sound gravelly and thrown from the choking. Wilson knows he’s probably grabbing Cuddy’s thighs too hard but he can’t bring himself to let her go, all he can focus on is the harsh pistoning of House’s cock inside him and the steady thrum of blood in his ears as the edges of his vision darken from the lack of blood and oxygen to his overloaded brain. 

Then House’s teeth were tearing into his shoulder, hard, and the hand around his throat clamped down fully on his carotids, cutting off all blood flow and making his head swim and his knees nearly buckle. If it wasn’t for House’s sudden iron grip on his testicles he would have orgasmed right then and there without so much as a single stroke to his aching cock. 

House removed his teeth from Wilson’s bruised flesh but made no move to let go of his throat or balls. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming home in one long, hard stroke angled directly at Wilson’s prostate, his breath hot and husky in Wilson’s ear. “When I let go, you better *thrust* fucking *thrust* cum for me!” With that House fucked Wilson without reserve, with a speed and vigor that shouldn't have been possible with his leg until Wilson's entire world narrowed to just House, House, House. 

Suddenly he released his fierce grip on Wilson’s balls and throat and grabbed his upper arms harshly instead, wrenching them behind his back and forcing him to arch backward painfully, his throbbing dick pointed right at Cuddy’s supine form. “Cum now!” 

House’s command did it and without a second thought Wilson was screaming and pulsing and cumming in thick spurts all over Cuddy’s belly, House groaning and spilling himself deep inside Wilson’s ass as he clenched wildly around him.

Wilson slumped against House, his head swimming from the intensity of his orgasm and lack of oxygen, and House did his best to hold them both up for several long, panting moments before harshly grabbing a fistful of Wilson’s thick hair and shoving him to his knees in front of Cuddy, his face inches away from her sex. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.” House thrust Wilson’s face into the biggest collection of semen on Cuddy’s taut abdomen he could find and held him there, Cuddy moaning as she felt Wilson’s tongue against her skin, dutifully licking up every drop of his cum off of her abdomen. When he was done House pushed his face further down against Cuddy’s dripping cunt. “You’re not done yet. You made that mess too.” 

Wilson happily set about lapping at Cuddy’s wetness, plunging his tongue as deep inside her as he could reach, sucking on her clit, his moans vibrating against her heated flesh as she dug her sharp little nails into his scalp and held him in place. After the obscenely hot experience of House and Wilson fucking directly on top of her Cuddy knew it wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge as well, her head thrown back wantonly and sounds of pure pleasure pouring from her mouth as Wilson hungrily ate her. She just needed one last thing before she could let go, her hands reaching blindly past Wilson, desperate for the connection that would let her fly. “House…” 

“Do I have to do everything around here?!” His complaint is half-hearted and easily disregarded by his otherwise occupied partners, his hands finding Cuddy’s smaller ones without hesitation, pulling her up into a backbend around Wilson’s head. Ignoring the throb in his thigh and focusing on the renewed throbbing between them, he takes easy advantage of the bared throat his mouth finds, clamping down on the corded tendon between neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark Cuddy will curse him for later. Right now the only cursing she’s doing is the good kind, nails in his forearms, trembling against Wilson’s indefatigable oral skills. 

He lets go with a growl, hot breath against the shell of her ear now, ready to unleash a filthy litany of praise and promises to drag the orgasm from her violently. But all he gets out is her name, before she breaks, the crescendo of her scream nearly drowning out the steady beeping of something in the background that House has subconsciously been analyzing for the last few minutes, far less interesting than the sight before him but annoyingly present in the back of his mind like a ticking watch.

“Fuck.” House shoves off from the kitchen table and limps toward the source of the beeping, zipping up his jeans by habit. It's not like they've never seen his leg but he doesn't like seeing it himself.

“You can say that again.” Wilson, hoarse and breathless and adorably dishevelled draped across Cuddy’s lap is oblivious to the beeping and the quickly intensifying scent of smoke that’s begun to invade the small kitchen.

“Is something burning?” Cuddy is struggling to sit up, brow furrowed in concern of an imminent fire and all of them half naked and covered in various bodily fluids. She's never going to live this down.

"Nope. That would be burned, past tense." House is using Cuddy's decorative dish towels to haul the blackened tray of what used to be brownies out of the smoking oven, tossing it unceremoniously into the sink before cracking the window and using the towel to fan smoke out of it.

"Damn. What are we supposed to eat now? That was the only non-diet, non-organic, non-vegan thing in the whole house!" Cuddy slaps Wilson's shoulder but there's no malice in it. Truth be told she was really looking forward to those brownies.

"Doesn't the owner of that pizza place around here owe you a favor, Wilson?" House's eyes are narrowed, a quirk to his mouth. He's scheming.

"No. Absolutely not." House ignores him like usual and keeps talking.

"What's the name of that place again? D'angelo's?" House is already rifling through Cuddy's junk drawer for the phone book.

"House, it's 2 in the morning." This was a losing battle and Wilson knew it.

"It's that little shop with the apartment above it." House had the phone now, already dialing despite Wilson's protests.

"No way." Wilson had treated D'angelo's brother a few years back. Lymphoma but they had caught it in time. D'angelo promised Wilson pizza on the house anytime he wanted as a thank you. He doubted a 2am after sex craving was what he had in mind though.

"Pizza does sound kinda good, James…" Cuddy was grinning at him from her perch on the table, her eyes sleepy but convincing.

"Oh so you're both just going to gang up on me now? Is that how this is going to work?" Wilson was pulling his boxers back on as he ranted, turning from Cuddy to stare down House, hands on his hips.

"Yep." House thrusts the ringing phone into his hands with finality. "Don't forget the extra cheese."

Wilson is obviously outvoted and sighs in resignation, stumbling over his words when D'angelo's italian accent unexpectedly comes over the phone.

"Hey D'angelo, hello there, yes hi, I'm so very sorry to be calling this late but it's uh James Wilson. Yes, yes Dr. Wilson. You uh told me to call if I ever um needed a pizza?"

House left Wilson to struggle through the call and turned to Cuddy. She had tucked her knees up under her and was sitting cross-legged on the table watching him. For a moment all House could see was the 19 year old girl he had met in that bookstore all those years ago in Michigan. His life had stopped that day, kicked out of med school, a failure of a man that no one deserved to be dragged down with. He thought she was better off without him. And that still might be true. But here they were. Maybe it wasn't too late afterall. 

"Pizza will be here in about 30 minutes. I suggest at least one of us be presentable enough to answer the door so I'm going to take a shower. Don't follow me." Wilson's comment was directed at House but Cuddy was implied. House watched as he walked out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom, his frame silhouetted like the perfect Wilson shaped puzzle piece they had been missing back then. 

"We should definitely go join him in the shower." Cuddy's voice is the perfect mixture of mischief and innocence and if the years of pain and loneliness were the price he needed to pay to have this, here, now, he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.


End file.
